In praise of limitations

Tell us a story of a time when a limitation helped you be at your most creative.

Add your response

 


There are 8 written responses to this assignment.


Because I’m Number Three in Line

Written by M on March 5, 2015 11:11 pm
Leave a comment

What seems like forever, but was in actuality only six years ago, I was a part of a team for a creativity competition called “Odyssey of the Mind”. We had good coaching and a pretty solid team, and we ended up doing well at competition. But the competition is not my point at all.

My coach, through our practices for our short-term creativity competition (because as the brightest always say, creativity is a muscle– you build it), had figured out some clever little things about our work. How one of our teammates could come up with spontaneous ideas off the top of her head. How others could build off of her.

Me? Well, that was a different story. I have always been creative and original, but my forte was our long term creativity project– I wrote the script. I acted. I hot glued trash and crumpled up newspaper to a pair of odd black things my coach had scrounged before they hit the trashcan sometime before. Things become wilder as they bake in my mind– if I don’t have that time, that calm, I freeze.

We had five teammates and were allowed to pick the order in which we sat. In some questions, we would work together. In others, they would line us up and ask a question down the line. If the second came, assigned seats were our advantage. My coach selected me for third. Third, she said, because I was better if I built off of someone. Third, because an open sea of possibilities made my indecisive mind suddenly throw out redlights.

Today, I use that same concept. I need someone to act as my first and second teammates– in short, I need a prompt. Or perhaps not need. But prompts often inspire my most interesting writing. Part of the reason I write stories with others, or search Pinterest for an idea that might blossom into a full three pages, is that it narrows my focus, and at the same time gives me every possibility. After all, to create yourself out of a box, you must first be in it.


Creativity

Written by juan on March 5, 2015 11:08 pm
Leave a comment

The only thing that limits art is creativity itself. Limitations encourage creativity. Give someone two objects and tell them to tell a story, they will be demanded to be creative in different ways. Creativity itself, is the only limitation of art.


Left Hand Right Hand

Written by @DanielMcLeod94 on March 5, 2015 10:28 pm
Leave a comment

‘You will dribble the ball all the way down the court and back using only your weak hand.” What? I couldn’t believe what the coach was saying to us. I had never really used my left hand to dribble the ball before, i mean i could still do crossovers from left to right and right to left. My hands started to sweat as the coach’s whistle shrieked for the drill to begin. “Oh man this is gonna suck”, I thought. “I’m probably the only kid in this whole camp that doesn’t know how to dribble with his left hand”. No time to dwell on that as I was next up in line for the drill. The gym was stifling hot, sweat cascading down my face from the suicides he made us run before. I was nervous, my hands shaking as I tried to grip the orange leather ball. I took a deep breath and waited for the coach’s whistle to blow as the guys coming back down the stumbled, fatigued. As soon as the whistle blew, I took off. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 dribbles in and i can barely keep control over the ball. I hear the coach yell, “C’mon McLeod pound the ball!” My hands start to slip as I try to pound the slippery orange ball harder into the hardwood floors. I can feel my left arm starting to ache, “since it’s your first time actually using your left hand you dope” I said to myself mentally. Then the ball bounces off my foot before I reach the baseline. “Aw shit, now the coach is gonna know that i can’t dribble with my left hand”. I panic and retrieve the ball as i reach the baseline and start back. The only thought going through my mind, “don’t lose control, just slow and pound the ball as hard as you can.” I made sure to keep my head up, never looking down at the ball. My left arm feels as if I had been punched several hundred times by my older cousin. But I keep pushing till i reach the other baseline. I block the pain out and just focus on the sound of the ball bouncing off the hardwood as i reach closer to baseline. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 dribble left and I gasp for air as i reached the baseline. The coach’s whistle rings 3 times, indicating the end of the drill. He glances towards me and nods in approval. “Good job McLeod, keep working on that drill and you’ll have your left hand down in no time at all.” I nod and jog over to the Gatorade bucket for a drink. When i felt limited in my skills and talents, I learned that the limits of the drills were meant to turn weaknesses into strengths. Now fast forward 9 years later, I dare a defender to try and guard me, be sure to watch my left hand sucka.


Left Hand Right Hand

Written by @DanielMcLeod94 on March 5, 2015 10:27 pm
Leave a comment

‘You will dribble the ball all the way down the court and back using only your weak hand.” What? I couldn’t believe what the coach was saying to us. I had never really used my left hand to dribble the ball before, i mean i could still do crossovers from left to right and right to left. My hands started to sweat as the coach’s whistle shrieked for the drill to begin. “Oh man this is gonna suck”, I thought. “I’m probably the only kid in this whole camp that doesn’t know how to dribble with his left hand”. No time to dwell on that as I was next up in line for the drill. The gym was stifling hot, sweat cascading down my face from the suicides he made us run before. I was nervous, my hands shaking as I tried to grip the orange leather ball. I took a deep breath and waited for the coach’s whistle to blow as the guys coming back down the stumbled, fatigued. As soon as the whistle blew, I took off. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 dribbles in and i can barely keep control over the ball. I hear the coach yell, “C’mon McLeod pound the ball!” My hands start to slip as I try to pound the slippery orange ball harder into the hardwood floors. I can feel my left arm starting to ache, “since it’s your first time actually using your left hand you dope” I said to myself mentally. Then the ball bounces off my foot before I reach the baseline. “Aw shit, now the coach is gonna know that i can’t dribble with my left hand”. I panic and retrieve the ball as i reach the baseline and start back. The only thought going through my mind, “don’t lose control, just slow and pound the ball as hard as you can.” I made sure to keep my head up, never looking down at the ball. My left arm feels as if I had been punched several hundred times by my older cousin. But I keep pushing till i reach the other baseline. I block the pain out and just focus on the sound of the ball bouncing off the hardwood as i reach closer to baseline. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 dribble left and I gasp for air as i reached the baseline. The coach’s whistle rings 3 times, indicating the end of the drill. He glances towards me and nods in approval. “Good job McLeod, keep working on that drill and you’ll have your left hand down in no time at all.” I nod and jog over to the Gatorade bucket for a drink. When i felt limited in my skills and talents, I learned that the limits of the drills were meant to turn weaknesses into strengths. Now fast forward 9 years later, I dare a defender to try and guard me, be sure to watch my left hand sucka.


Left Hand Right Hand

Written by @DanielMcLeod94 on March 5, 2015 10:27 pm
Leave a comment

‘You will dribble the ball all the way down the court and back using only your weak hand.” What? I couldn’t believe what the coach was saying to us. I had never really used my left hand to dribble the ball before, i mean i could still do crossovers from left to right and right to left. My hands started to sweat as the coach’s whistle shrieked for the drill to begin. “Oh man this is gonna suck”, I thought. “I’m probably the only kid in this whole camp that doesn’t know how to dribble with his left hand”. No time to dwell on that as I was next up in line for the drill. The gym was stifling hot, sweat cascading down my face from the suicides he made us run before. I was nervous, my hands shaking as I tried to grip the orange leather ball. I took a deep breath and waited for the coach’s whistle to blow as the guys coming back down the stumbled, fatigued. As soon as the whistle blew, I took off. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 dribbles in and i can barely keep control over the ball. I hear the coach yell, “C’mon McLeod pound the ball!” My hands start to slip as I try to pound the slippery orange ball harder into the hardwood floors. I can feel my left arm starting to ache, “since it’s your first time actually using your left hand you dope” I said to myself mentally. Then the ball bounces off my foot before I reach the baseline. “Aw shit, now the coach is gonna know that i can’t dribble with my left hand”. I panic and retrieve the ball as i reach the baseline and start back. The only thought going through my mind, “don’t lose control, just slow and pound the ball as hard as you can.” I made sure to keep my head up, never looking down at the ball. My left arm feels as if I had been punched several hundred times by my older cousin. But I keep pushing till i reach the other baseline. I block the pain out and just focus on the sound of the ball bouncing off the hardwood as i reach closer to baseline. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 dribble left and I gasp for air as i reached the baseline. The coach’s whistle rings 3 times, indicating the end of the drill. He glances towards me and nods in approval. “Good job McLeod, keep working on that drill and you’ll have your left hand down in no time at all.” I nod and jog over to the Gatorade bucket for a drink. When i felt limited in my skills and talents, I learned that the limits of the drills were meant to turn weaknesses into strengths. Now fast forward 9 years later, I dare a defender to try and guard me, be sure to watch my left hand sucka.


Putting Limits on Art

Written by Peanut Butter Theater on March 5, 2015 8:18 pm
Leave a comment

If there is no design, a film cannot be made. If there is no design, a play cannot be performed. If there is no design, sonnets cannot be written. If there is no design, pottery cannot be created. Without limits, there can be no art. This is the story of every art project ever created. Even God had a design when He created the universe! Follow His lead!

whited out flower design w words


No Limitations

Written by Christina Zameito on March 5, 2015 5:18 pm
Leave a comment

The enemy of art is no limitations. Due to the fact that anyone anywhere can be creative in their own way. Such as me writing this idea in my head. With no limitations what is there to stop me? Saying, doing, seeing things the way everyone does is different. Art is open to interpenetration. There are no limits. The sky, the moon, all the way to the farthest stars. Your mind is your control. This idea, this FACT, is art. There are NO limitations.


No Limits

Written by @sandramardene on March 5, 2015 12:17 pm
Leave a comment

No Limits